


Thirty Years Later

by Senji



Category: Alliance-Union - C. J. Cherryh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-20
Updated: 2008-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1623539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senji/pseuds/Senji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 Years later, and the war is still ongoing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thirty Years Later

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Frostfire

 

 

_Europe to Rider One. We're on your track, scan reads nothing in your engagement zone, and we'll catch up with you in ... exactly sixty two minutes when you receive this mark. Mark._

Meg turned to Ben, who gave her a quick thumbs up before turning back to his displays, and replied "Longscan confirms everything clear" even as the incoming message continued.

_Captain's complements and you're to have a stand down until dock, He apologises but we'll be leaving Esperance as soon as you've docked and you'll be on point when we come out of Jump. Europe out._

Sal secured her board and released her chair to spin around and face the centre of the cabin. "You heard the man, we've got just under an hour for some serious relaxation before Jump."

"Typical Fleet. And this entire op has been a case of hurry hurry hurry." Ben reached for his comm toggle "One to Longscan Two, you're clear until Jump in just over an hour, good luck and see you on the other side."

"Longscan and Armscomp acknowledge lock down. Pilot is free to hand his board over to the automatic systems."

Dekker seemed oblivious to anything except his console as Ben reached into a crawl space for an unofficial, if effectively standard, folding table and a very unofficial bottle with tumblers.

"Wake up Dek! It's 2351... and, hell, I have absolutely no idea what the date is, but it's damned near Christmas, and I'm certainly not going to waste this whisky I've saved for it on you. Unless you snap out of it that is."

Dekker shut down the helm controls and turned to join them, with the shadow of a grin on his face, "still telling me the time. Ben? It gets a bit old you know!"

"We're all getting old, _jeune fils_ ," Meg could barely keep an ironic smile off her face, "we're all getting old, and the Rab are gone and the Shepherds are history. All but maybe two dozen of us slowly getting old out here in the Fleet."

"Not exactly 'Rab' runnng under orders, and with our own support staff either," Sal grimaced, running her hand through her distinctly non-regulation hair, "what would Bird make of all of this?"

"He'd tell us we were no better than Company pilots and then expect us to buy the drinks." Ben grinned, "and he'd be right, it's not as if we really have an interest in the outcome of this war — Earth's safe, and Cyteen's safe, and it's just a question of where we draw the line."

"Speaking of which, where are we going next?"

"Right now I think it's more a question of 'away', but you know the Captain; he'll have planned out all his retreats in advance, and probably his next two or three steps as well."

"Anything from the computer?"

"Nothing concrete, of course the Captains keep their strategy discussions face-to-face, but from what I heard dockside I'm guessing we'll be at Pell within the year."

Dekker shivered, "I wouldn't want to fight around Pell's Star; that's a busy system, and I can't see any good retreat route from there."

Meg smiled at him. "I agree, the shape's of the thing's skosh wrong. It'd have to be Viking or Russell's, and Russell's would leave Pell uncovered."

"Russell's would be a bad place to fight too."

"Viking it is then, and probably a meeting before we get there. No more station liberties for some time, and difficult times when we are on station."

"They'll be cursing us on the stations, and calling us worse things than Union, unless I miss my guess."

Sal sighed. "I'm getting tired of this war. It's been a long war, even with Jump and rejuv to keep us young."

"Aye, chelovek, we're none of us as young as we once were, and I'm not sure we're the best any more. Some of the Union rider-crews are learning all of our tricks, and more, and the good old combination of old age and treachery is going to fail us one of these days."

Ben looked thoughtful as he poured out second measures for everyone, "I've been thinking that it may be time to get out."

"Going to spend your ill-gained earnings on a ship share and join your young thing on _Le Cygne_?" Sal poked him playfully in the ribs, but it only seemed to intensify the barb.

"No. I don't think it's going to be good times for merchants in the next few years, and I don't see myself getting that office in Stockholm any more either."

Ben raised his glass to opportunities missed and friends long gone.

"No, I was thinking I'd try and get myself reassigned to that planet they found out there, a good long way away from the War, and where no one from Cyteen knows where it is. I'm sure they'll be needing computer techs out there."

"That's not a bad plan. They'll probably need shuttle pilots too, always a shortage of them, good ones at least. Or," and Meg practically giggled at the thought, "I could retire. Imagine what Bird would have said if we'd suggested that any of us might ever retire. His idea of retiring would have been 15-and-20s on two ships and only having to worry about crewing them."

"Poor Bird" somehow this had become a toast, and Dekker threw the rest of his whisky down his throat, "I really wish he could have seen one of these, seen what his life's work was going towards."

"Aye" they all agreed, and Meg carried on, "aye, _mon fils_ aye. And many other friends. Did I ever tell you the story of the time I...", only to be interrupted by the tannoy:

_Europe to Rider One: we're coming up your stern, prepare for docking manoeuvres in five minutes..._

Hurrying to clear the decks Ben remembered something else of Bird.

"Once more unto the breach dear friends, once more..."

The others looked at him questioningly.

"Shakespeare." 

 


End file.
